


atlas and the world

by floatyourself



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi needs a hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Exes to Lovers, Going Abroad, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Slow Burn, chance encounters, i think i got hurt more writing this fic than the actual characters in the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27157324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatyourself/pseuds/floatyourself
Summary: Osamu inhaled shakily, no longer bothering to hide the tears that were starting to form. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”“Don’t be,” Akaashi murmured, threading his fingers together and refusing to look Osamu in the eye. “Both of us had a part in this. I just had more to do with it than you.”Maybe their love wasn't made to last this time -- but that's okay, for he will go through heaven and hell to catch a glimpse of his smile once again.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 11
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello so i am back with another wip!! im excited to post this bc its been in my drafts for so long aaaaaa it's pretty slow burn and akaashi-centric, so osamu enters the story just a _lil_ bit later.

Love was a weird thing, he supposed. There was no manual on how to navigate it, no instructions on how to do it, and no advice on what would happen — when one eventually found themselves out of love. There were hundreds of self-help books and dating advice websites, but Akaashi found them all to be null and void. Useless. Because how can one generic advice ring true for what he had experienced? How can those relationship advice threads ever comprehend the depth of their feelings, of how hard they fell, and how hard they crashed right after? There was no words for it. Nothing. No person could ever put into words the emotions he felt during that high. So maybe it only made sense that when the day came, and Akaashi saw /him/ once again, even he couldn’t find the words to say once more.

(He didn’t have to find the words to say in the end though, because it was Osamu that beat him to it.)

“Keiji?”

(How silly. It seems that Osamu is finally the one starting things now, and not the one to end it.)

Maybe this time things can be different. With that in mind, he smiles fondly.

“...Miya-kun.”

It may not have been their time yesterday, last month, and in the last five years, but maybe this time, but Akaashi would find that time when their lines would finally collide once again. He would. It wasn’t an option, but it was a choice.

He would find that timing once again, whether it took him years and decades to do so. Osamu deserved it, though he wondered idly if he deserved it as well. 

After all, you can always make a person fall in love with you again, don’t you?

*

“Akaashi, are you coming with us? We’re gonna go and celebrate the win.” Kenma peered up at Akaashi, momentarily stopping his game. The two of them were outside of the arena, where MSBY had another match — which they won once again.

Akaashi pushed his slipping glasses up on his nose. He was only standing there and waiting for Bokuto to meet them outside so they could go eat out together before heading their separate ways, but consequently forgot to consider that the spiker would have wanted to celebrate the win with his teammates.

“I don’t know, I have a lot of deadlines to meet soon,” he replied. “There’s a big client in the publishing house right now, and I’ve been pulling all the strings and taking charge so the others can work properly. I might go home first already, since Bokuto-san will most probably be occupied.”

Kenma frowned at his friend’s response. “You know that you don’t need to do that right?”, he asked with an eyebrow raised. “It’s not your responsibility to take care of everyone all the time.” He looked straight into Akaashi’s eyes, feeling a bit more worried and concerned for his friend a little bit more than before.

Akaashi turned away from Kenma’s stare. He hated when Kenma did that to him. It made him feel like he was doing something wrong, and knowing the way Kenma thought and observed people, he was probably right about choosing to show disapproval. Akaashi fiddled with his fingers, looking up at the sky while tapping his left foot anxiously.

“We’ve had this talk already Kenma,” he sighed. “This time... it’s different you know? It could be a make or break for the company. I’m not the only one who’s been working overtime for this, and all my other coworkers have been working overtime too. We all want this to go well.”

Kenma looked down at his game again. “You always want things to go well. But the kind of work you’ve been putting in, it’s different now,” he mumbled, pressing the buttons on his controller absentmindedly.

Akaashi let out a sigh of relief at that. Maybe his friend did understand what he was trying to point out. Now all he had to do now was call Bokuto, tell him he would be heading home and he could finally start —

“It’s not healthy, and that doesn’t mean you have to work yourself to death every single time though,” Kenma butted in, interrupting Akaashi’s thoughts. “It’s not normal. This- this thing,” he gestured towards Akaashi with one hand. “It’s not normal. I wish you would take care of yourself more.”

Take care of himself. When was the last time Akaashi heard that? Or better yet, when was the last time he — or someone — did that? He couldn’t remember, or maybe just didn’t want to remember.

It had been two years since then. There was no use rehashing the has beens and the what ifs of two years ago.

Akaashi tried to give a reassuring smile to Kenma. He appreciated his friend’s sentiment, but he was doing fine, really! He already had his two years to make peace with what happened.

(That was a lie.)

He knew that no matter what happened, a part of him would always yearn, always think about the what if’s. Akaashi would always dream of a pair of grey eyes, feel the ghost of warm, calloused hands on his hips, and heat of a lingering kiss on his forehead. For the past two years, it never stopped.

Akaashi thinks that it never will.

Kenma and the others didn’t need to know that of course. He was perfectly fine living his life the way it was right now — working hard, doing well, and supporting his friends’ ventures as they reached for their dreams.

He went to Bokuto’s games as much as he could. He found time to watch Kenma’s streams, catch up with Oikawa with the occasional videocall and listen to him pine over his best friend (honestly, Oikawa and Iwaizumi were two of the dumbest and most oblivious people he had ever had the chance of meeting), and meet up with Kuroo over a cup of coffee every other week.

Life was great for him. He had a job, he had his friends, and he was happy living in Tokyo on his own.

(There was an aching in his chest, but Akaashi learned to ignore it by pushing himself into his work and trying out the occasional hobby when he had nothing to do. He’s okay now, really. Akaashi feels a few pangs in his chest every once in a while, but considering all the work he did, this was good enough.)

“Akaashi?”

Akaashi blinked and looked at Kenma, who was staring at him curiously.

“What?”

“You got lost in your thoughts again,” Kenma raised his eyebrow as way of explanation.

Akaashi laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, there’s just a lot on my mind.” He hitched up his messenger bag on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I know when to stop and to take care of myself, Kenma. Thank you for worrying though.” Akaashi looked at his friend, who was now immersed in his game, and offered a sheepish smile.

Kenma looked at him once again and nodded. “I know you always know what’s best, Akaashi.” He pocketed his console and stood up. “I just hope you know you deserve the best, whether it’s from other people, or just the best you can give to yourself.”

Akaashi turned to look towards the direction Kenma was facing when he stood up, pushed his glasses up once again, and nodded.

“I know. It’s just easy to forget sometimes.”

A loud voice suddenly interrupted the silence between the two friends. “AKAAAAAASHI!”

Bokuto went bounding towards them, accompanied by Kuroo and the other MSBY members. As the group approached, Hinata went to Kenma’s side, with Atsumu and Sakusa bickering but following closely behind.

“Miya, the day will come when I staple your mouth.”

“Good thing it ain’t today then right, Omi-omi!”

Sakusa frowned and turned his body away from Atsumu, obviously signifying that the conversation was over. It was obvious that Atsumu became distressed at this, and a few minutes later the blonde started to sidle up to the disgruntled spiker once again.

Hinata laughed as he leaned on Kenma’s side. “Atsumu-san leave Omi-san alone. You’ve annoyed him enough for today.”

Atsumu stopped pestering Sakusa and whipped his head towards Hinata, fake tears already threatening to fall from his eyes.

“Ya think I’m annoyin’?” he clutched a hand to his chest. At the back, Sakusa rolled his eyes at the setter’s antics. Akaashi wasn’t sure, but it looked like Sakusa was smiling under the mask.

Akaashi smiled at the sight. The MSBY quartet was always a sight for sore eyes, and they never failed to amuse him with their dynamics and shenanigans. The players were dear to his heart, but watching them — especially Atsumu — felt a bit like something was being taken from him repeatedly, over and over again.

_He knew what it was, but he didn’t want to think about it._

Bokuto and Kuroo went and walked towards him and Kenma. Bokuto had a gym bag slung on his shoulder, while Kuroo had a hand clasped around a briefcase.

It was funny, Akaashi thought as he looked at his friends from head to toe. There was once a time when they were all brought together by volleyball, and now here they were, with different jobs, different dreams and occupations. The circumstances changed, but their friendship had stayed strong throughout the years, a fact which Akaashi was grateful for.

Seeing as the people they were waiting for were already there, Akaashi decided it was time to make his excuses and go. As much as he wanted to stay with his friends, he knew that he could use the time he had left to try and finish up some of the tasks he had and curl up on the couch with a nice cup of tea to relax.

Bokuto threw an arm around Akaashi, grinning widely. “Akaashi, did you see my last spike back then? Did you? Did you?” He puffed out his chest proudly.

“It was amazing Akaashi-san! Bokuto-san went _fwoop_ and _kablam_ and the ball went _boogsh_!” Hinata nodded enthusiastically, eyes shining as bright as Bokuto’s.

Akaashi nodded. “I did see, Bokuto-san. I think your technique has improven even more since high school.” Upon hearing that, Bokuto’s face pinched and his arm tightened around Akaashi’s shoulder until suddenly, he found himself being swept up into a hug.

“You really think so Akaashi? I worked really hard on that spike,” Bokuto blubbered. Akaashi chuckled and patted the back of Bokuto as much as he could, which wasn’t a lot because of the vice grip Bokuto had on him.

“Yeah, you did fantastic,” Akaashi forced out as Bokuto’s hug continued to cut off his air supply. He could hear Atsumu snickering at his predicament in the background, and Hinata whispering to Kenma about what they should do.

After a few more seconds of Bokuto gushing over Akaashi’s compliments, Kuroo, having watched the whole thing, finally stepped in to pull Bokuto away.

“Bokuto, Akaashi can’t breathe anymore,” the raven spoke, eyeing Akaashi with concern and a hint of a smile.

Figures Kuroo would find this funny. He had always been Bokuto’s enabler and vice versa. Akaashi threw Kuroo a dirty glare.

I know you held out on purpose, his eyes seemed to say.

Kuroo shrugged nonchalantly, a smile dancing playfully on his face. And what about it?

Bokuto pulled away from Akaashi, checking if he had hurt the other male in any way. “You can breathe, right ‘Kaashi?” He shook Akaashi once, rattling him like a broken machine. “I just got really, really excited!”

“It’s fine, Bokuto-san. You know it’s going to take more for me to get knocked out by you,” he finally replied, pushing his glasses up again, which had fallen down during the duration of the hug. “I was actually planning to leave now. I was just waiting for you all to arrive so I could tell you guys and say goodbye.”

Kuroo frowned at Akaashi’s words, his facial expression looking scarily familiar to Kenma’s face when Akaashi said the same thing earlier. Damn childhood best friends. They probably shared a brain already at this point. Kenma looked at Kuroo’s face and said nothing while Bokuto turned sullen, hair and eyes drooping.

Meanwhile, Sakusa and Atsumu continued bickering from afar, unaware of what was happening. Hinata was watching the two in entertainment, but stayed firmly at Kenma’s side, occasionally looking at the game he was playing.

“Omi I said I was sorry! C’mon I didn’t mean to poke ya in the cheek!”

“You mean to tell me your arm just decided to move on its own then?”

“Yeah! My hand just twitches when it sees cute things ya know? Sorta like I gotta pinch it immediately.”

“...So you’re saying I’m cute?”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind.”

Kuroo snickered slightly at the sight of the two before turning his attention again to Akaashi. Damn cat. Kuroo was always so observant, and there was no distracting him once something caught his eye.

 _Oh no_ , Akaashi thought. He already knew what was going to happen. Yes, he loved his friends, but Akaashi knew the beginnings of an intervention when he saw one. He recognized those so easily, because Bokuto, Kuroo and Kenma had staged so many of those in the past. Especially in the past two years.

Steadying himself, Akaashi took a deep breath and tried to explain himself further. Though he looked unflappable and calm, his tapping foot gave away the turmoil he felt. Best to get it over with, he thought. It was better to speak now before Kuroo and the others started interrogating him once again.

“I was planning on finishing up some of my paperwork at home and—,”

“Akaashi.”

Akaashi looked at Bokuto, who had spoken. Kenma and Kuroo remained silent, watching the two of them.

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto offered a tiny smile, which Akaashi found comforting. “Are you sure?” There was something off in Bokuto’s question, Akaashi realized. But did it matter, when he understood what Bokuto was trying to say without the use of words?

Are you sure you can handle this again, on your own? Are you sure you’re doing well enough now?

Akaashi looked at Bokuto, who was still smiling at him, then to Kenma, who had started shifting from one foot to another, and lastly to Kuroo, who wore a passive expression on his face.

“Yes, I think so.”

(Thinking was different from doing, but it was the effort made that counted.)

Bokuto slapped Akaashi on the back lightheartedly, eyes shining in relief. Relief over what? Akaashi didn’t want to think about it.

“That’s great then! We’re gonna get going then Akaashi.”

“Okay, Bokuto-san.”

“Have a safe trip back home,” Kuroo spoke up, the creases on his forehead flattening ever so slightly. Akaashi knew this wasn’t the end of the conversation, knowing how Kenma and Kuroo would just wait for the right time to bring him up again to Akaashi.

Him.

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about him, but can’t even handle thinking his name out loud? Akaashi was a coward, a fool. But then again, he reasoned, it’s perfectly human to practice self-preservation when faced with ... unpleasant things.

“Thank you, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi shook himself out of his thoughts, “Have a great night ahead.”

With that being said, he hiked up his bag once again, gave the others a smile, and took off.

_Say, Ji. Don’t you think you need a break every now and then?_

_It’s okay, Samu. As long as you’re here, I feel like I can do anything ._

(He wondered how it felt like two years ago, when he could do everything, and conquer the world before.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> akaashi allows himself to reminisce, but only for a short while. some memories aren't meant to be remembered after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry this took so long but here's the second part! atlas is v dear to me, so i wanted to make sure that i managed to get all the details i wanted in the story. the story follows a non-linear narrative, but do let me know if some things don't make sense. thanks again for reading!

Osamu made the first move - after months and months of the two of them pining for each other, and months of Akaashi second-guessing Osamu’s actions, much to the exasperation of Kuroo, Kenma, and Bokuto. Bokuto wasn’t exasperated - though it did come to the point wherein he had pulled Akaashi aside and had given him the _Talk_ , as much as a 25-year-old could give one to someone just a year younger than them.

Bokuto had pulled Akaashi aside after one of his games back then.

* * *

_“Akaashi, do you like Myaa-sam?” Bokuto asked innocently._

_Akaashi, who had been clutching one of Onigiri Miya’s onigiri in one hand and a paper bag full of takeout in the other, almost dropped both in his surprise, feeling a rush of adrenaline surge through his entire body._

_“I think he’s pleasant enough,” Akaashi had answered cautiously, not knowing what Bokuto was trying to reach with their conversation. “His business is impressive, though I only know him through you and Atsumu-kun.” He exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself down._

_He was never really good with high-pressure situations and maybe to an outsider, their conversation didn’t really look like a high-pressure, high-stakes conversation, but Akaashi was the type of person who found comfort in knowledge - in what he knew was true and existing - and so his_ conveniently _unresolved problem of what his opinion was on a certain Miya Osamu was enough for him to feel uncomfortable with the situation at hand._

 _It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about Osamu at all. It was actually the opposite, and though they had only ever met sporadically (six times, Akaashi had counted), Osamu had always invaded every space of his head, filling him with thoughts and what ifs and- and_ emotions _Akaashi didn’t want to make sense of at that time._

_He analyzed every single interaction they had, scrutinizing and turning over every detail - leaving nothing untouched - and raced to assess, to find the appropriate meaning for each action Miya Osamu had performed._

_What did it mean when he brushed his fingers against Akaashi that one time? Was it an accident - a meaningless form of contact between two strangers? Or was it imbued with hidden meanings, meanings that were waiting for Akaashi to be discovered and interpreted?_

_Or during that time when he had given Akaashi an extra onigiri, free of charge. Was there more to that? Or maybe he did that to every loyal customer Onigiri Miya had?_

_After all, a good chunk of Akaashi’s money went into not only the travel expenses when he watched an MSBY match, but also to the ridiculously large number of onigiris he hoarded whenever Onigiri Miya had a stall during the said game._

_Thinking about it, Osamu probably did it as a favor to a loyal customer. After all, he reasoned to himself, when one does the math, there’s still a lot of profit from a customer who buys twelve onigiris in one go, and a bonus onigiri wouldn’t have been much of a loss to the business._

_He had thought so much about Osamu, scrutinized every conversation they had had, replayed the sounds of Osamu’s light, pleasant laughs in his head, and now he was stuck in a vicious cycle of analysis - fueled by mostly his doubt and need to have control over the things in his life._

_It had gotten so bad that when the time came that he started to dream about gray eyes he had opened his laptop, and sped through all the possible edits he could do in Tenma’s chapters - all to ignore the implications of his dream, and the thudding in his chest that had intensified._

_Miya Osamu was confusing, and he didn’t know if he liked it or hated it._

_Bokuto shook his head, looking wise and knowing at the same time. “We all know Myaa-sam’s great but do you like_ like _him?” he asked._

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bokuto-san.”_

_“Really? So all the times he’s been giving you free food and flirting with you when he was supposed to be serving customers, those were just nothing to you?”_

_“What?” Akaashi shifted from foot to foot nervously. Osamu flirting with him? He was just being nice! Like all successful business owners, he was just being friendly to his customers. It was very important to build trust and respect with his customers._

_Who would visit Onigiri Miya if Osamu turned into a snapping, grumpy owner then?_

_“Osamu was just being nice,” he decided to voice out his thoughts. “It’s important for a business owner to maintain good relations with his customers. Isn’t that, one of the basic rules in business?”_

_“Maybe, so” Bokuto responded slowly, obviously confused with Akaashi’s current thought process. “But he never does those with any of us Akaashi!”_

_“You just need to buy from Onigiri Miya more.” Akaashi dismissed, his mind refusing to even entertain the idea Bokuto was implying._

_“I think he’s nice though.”_

_Bokuto, tired of his former setter’s glaringly obvious attempts to dodge the subject, decided to just tell it straight to him. He knew Akaashi was scarily observant, tended to scrutinize and ruminate over certain things over and over again - even during their high school days._

_Though he rarely showed it, Akaashi was often left undecided about small things. He thought and rethought about whether he should take the umbrella for the day, changed his mind when they ordered ramen, and had trouble picking out clothes that weren’t his uniform at times._

_Akaashi liked to observe and collect all the possible information before making a decision, but sometimes, well, he took way too long to do so, and this was one of those times._

_“Akaashi, I think you wouldn’t know that Myaa-sam liked you until he proposed or something. You like him too and you just don’t want to think about it,” he pointed a finger at the setter, who was looking mildly attacked at the moment._

_And there it was. Bokuto had hit the nail right on the head, and Akaashi was left bewildered by the roundabout way he had gotten coerced into acknowledging the situation at hand._

_“You should go for it, Akaashi!” The spiker happily informed him, knowing that his mission - to give Akaashi a wake up call - had been successful._

_Seeing that Akaashi had fallen silent, and was probably reorganizing his thoughts at the sudden revelation, Bokuto gave a thumbs up and continued, “Tsum-tsum told me to tell you that you should go ahead.”_

_Akaashi smiled faintly at that. It was endearing to see how Atsumu was still very much involved in his twin brother’s affairs, though it may have been annoying if one was in Osamu’s shoes._

_“We’ll see, Bokuto-san,” he finally replied. “I’m...,” he paused, finding the words to describe the situation. “...interested?”_

_Seeing that Bokuto wasn’t satisfied with his response, he conceded. “I’ll try to get his number.”_

* * *

_“Myaa-sam?”_

_Osamu paused in serving a customer, shooting Akaashi a soft smile. “Fukurodani, what brings you here?”_

_Akaashi fidgeted with the hems of his sleeves anxiously, eyes darting from Osamu to the game, to Osamu, and then back to the game again. Why had he let Bokuto talk him into this again? It was frightening for him to be in a situation he had no idea what the outcome would be, and the fact that Miya Osamu had the most disarming smile he had ever seen wasn't helping his case._

_Osamu glanced at the editor, taking note of his closed-off body language and his jittery hands. Deciding not to push Akaashi into anything - he was clearly uncomfortable already - Osamu decided to continue serving his customers. He could always wait for Akaashi, he considered, and it didn't seem like Akaashi was going anywhere any time soon._

_Offering Akaashi one last encouraging smile - though he wasn't actually sure what he was encouraging Akaashi to do - he turned and served the last customer before giving his undivided attention to Akaashi._

_"I was just..." Akaashi trailed off, looking anywhere and everywhere besides Osamu's eyes. "Just..."_

_"May I ask for your number?” Osamu blurted out, before his cheeks turned red, scratching the back of his head sheepishly._

_Akaashi stared at the other in shock, refusing to comprehend what had just happened. Did Osamu just ask for his number? But more importantly, did Osamu just beat him to it?_

_Looking to fill the sudden silence that had fallen between the two of them, Osamu stammered out. "I-I've been plannin' on asking for a while now, and it's only just now that I managed?" He cringed at the sentence his mouth had unknowingly spoken out loud. "You don't have ta think of it in a romantic sense, if you don't want to!" he offered quickly as he watched Akaashi grow redder and redder at each passing second._

_They were probably an entertaining sight to behold, two grown men just blushing like tomatoes in silence._

_"We can just talk about uh, food and stuff and-!"_

_Akaashi forced himself to get a grip, exhaling slowly (though he was still very conscious of the growing heat creeping up on his neck and cheeks). Osamu had already taken the first step - a pleasant surprise, considering the amount of sheer willpower Akaashi had to gather to even make his way up to the stand, and all that was left to do was, well, exchange numbers._

_It sounded pretty logical, straightforward enough in Akaashi's mind, but emotions were a messy, complex nuisance, and his hands shook as he took out his phone from his pocket._

_Offering his phone to Osamu, Akaashi managed a small smile, heart pounding. He was sure his cheeks would never cool down from the bright red it had glowed throughout the entire encounter._

_"I'd like to think of it in a romantic sense, if you don't mind."_

* * *

_Akaashi gets a confession from Osamu a month later in one of MSBY’s games, and accepts it, much to the delight of Bokuto (“I told you he wouldn’t believe Myaa-sam liked him unless he confessed, Tsum-tsum!”)._

_If asked, that day was ranked pretty high up in Akaashi’s best days of his life._

* * *

Though they had danced around each other for a while, once they had gotten together - Akaashi couldn’t imagine what life was before Osamu entered his. They led separate lives still, but the difference now was that they had a home to go to and arms to hold them tight when sometimes the world just got too much. He didn’t want to use the word soulmate, but what they had - the train rides to see their beloved, quiet nights in with the television as background noise, hugs that they never wanted to let go off, late-night grocery runs to the konbini - all of those came close to that. 

_Soulmates._

Love was Osamu and Osamu was love - strong and enduring, encompassing all the seasons, all trials and hardships come what may. 

A stranger would have admired the way Akaashi and Osamu seemed to be perfectly in sync with each other - words never having to be spoken between the two of them. Hell, even their friends - Kuroo and Kenma and even _Atsumu_ \- though the latter would refuse to admit it, all of them knew that Akaashi and Osamu, in all their quiet shows of love and support, was what love looked like if it had stared them right in the face.

(Though they had varying definitions of love, all of them would agree that Akaashi-and-Osamu were a solid addition to their own definitions of love, even Atsumu. But you didn’t hear that from him).

They worked flawlessly around each other, picking up the other’s emotions nonverbally. They were both private people, and it was through this silence and their actions that they expressed their love for each other.

There was always a cooked meal left on the counter for Akaashi when Osamu had to leave early and a restocked cabinet in Akaashi’s apartment for when the other was in town and wanted to cook. Osamu always kept a piece of soft eyeglass cloth with him because Akaashi always managed to smudge his glasses, and in return, Akaashi would always make sure to give the other forehead kisses as thanks. 

Train rides were a common theme in their relationship, and while most people would give up at the thought of having to maintain a long-distance relationship, the two of them were like magnets who would always gravitate and find each other in the end. They were always with each other, or at least - they tried to be. 

Actions had been the foundation of their relationship and ultimately, their downfall. But that was a story for another time. There was no use ruminating on what-ifs and has-beens, at least, not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> atlas is so hard to write and idk why grrr >:( if u wanna yell @ me abt hurting akaashi or anything else u can leave a comment <333 next chapter: more flashbacks and a chance encounter :0


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things seem to pick up in akaashi's life. maybe this was the start of something new?

Whenever he entered his apartment, it felt like sudden flashes of scenes from the past were being thrown at him, but for Akaashi, that was okay. It was only fair enough for him to experience that, Akaashi supposed. After all, the things one says are usually - if never, forgotten.

Akaashi’s little apartment wasn’t a lot. If a stranger were to look at it, they would think that the apartment was rather a bare minimum, with only the essentials to be found.

If they took a second look, however, they would see all the little trinkets Akaashi had accumulated and kept around all these years.

There was a volleyball magnet on the fridge, tiny polaroids of Bokuto and the rest of the Fukurodani team arranged meticulously in an album underneath the coffee table, scented candles that smelled of lavender lit up around the living area, and a massive collection of paper plates stashed in the kitchen — because his friends visited a lot and Bokuto or Kuroo always ended up smashing glassware one way or another. There was also a lone vinyl player sitting at the corner of his living room just collecting dust. Normally he would've dumped the thing in the storage immediately, but the vinyl player's significance had Akaashi hesitating every time he tried to put it away.

There was more to Akaashi’s apartment, of course, but most of them were stuffed in the storage area — gone and most probably never to be taken out again. He didn’t want to see those things but couldn’t find it in himself to throw them away either, so off they went to the storage.

As someone who had always thought and rethought about every single thing that happened, he had never believed in the old saying, out of sight, out of mind. But here he was - stuffing old gifts of the past and picture frames that once adorned the living room back to the storage room - a desperate attempt to revert his apartment back to what it was before.

Ignoring the barrage of memories which always assaulted him whenever he went home to his humble apartment, Akaashi sat down in the dining area, took out his laptop, and began to work. 

It was just another day, after all. Routine was routine.

* * *

When he was a teenager, and like how most teenagers will often do, Akaashi had thought that the 20s was an exciting part of one’s life. It symbolized freedom and independence and moving out and exploring everything Tokyo had to offer, with no one to stop him from doing what he liked. If his high school self would have been able to see him now though, there was a big chance he would have been confused at the complexities that came with being a 20-year-old something, trying to make his way in the world all alone.

The thing was, Akaashi was actually happy. He really was, his happiness was something that wasn’t the product of his fantasies, and he was proud of how far he had come and he looked forward to what was the next step, the next challenge that awaited him. 

But with those feelings came his doubts, tucked carefully underneath the cracks of his persona. It wasn’t every day a person would feel glad about his life, after all. There would always be what-ifs, and Akaashi was not an exception to that.

He was content in his own job, but lived life day to day, eyes always on the next task. Life had lost the spark it once held for him, and now here he was — floating through life, getting by one day at a time. He was lucky enough he still had his friends with him. If Akaashi had lost contact with his friends back when they went their separate ways in college, his life would have been an even emptier shell than what it was now. 

It was all very confusing, to say the least. He held himself in the highest esteem, proud of the choices he had made, and the path he had forged all on his own. His friendships were strong and fulfilling - Akaashi thought that the people he loved and treasured today, were the people who would treasure their friendship with him for the longest time. Perhaps the best way to describe himself was that he was satisfied. He had his occasional doubts and fears, but Akaashi believed that life is more than the sum of its parts - and though he had his fair share of positive and negative experiences in life — it was the combination of these experiences which made his life feel more fulfilled and meaningful.

Life wasn’t just about the great things, but it was about the bad and learning to find the good once again.

Such was the story of Akaashi Keiji. He had his regrets, he had his mistakes, and there was a hole in him that desperately needed to be filled as his desire to be held persisted throughout the years, but he was okay. 

If high school Akaashi saw him now, he wouldn’t know whether to be sad or happy, but, Akaashi thought that he would have been proud of himself for his persistence to keep ongoing.

Standing up from his position in front of his laptop, Akaashi went and lit up the lavender candles he had, the soothing smell wafting and spreading across the entire apartment. Grabbing a snack from the cabinet, he fixed the polaroids on the wall which were a bit crooked to the left, and sat down once again, fully prepared to carry on with a night of work. 

Sitting down, Akaashi noticed his browser tab pinging, the text flashing to inform him that he had just received an email. But who would be emailing him this late into the night? Frowning, Akaashi checked the wall clock hanging on the wall. It was currently eleven in the evening on a Sunday, and most people would have been either asleep or enjoying their last few hours of the weekend before work and the week started once again. Setting down his snack on the table, Akaashi clicked on the email tab.

* * *

(2) Gmail - Inbox

 **To:** akaashikeiji@gmail.com

 **From:** udaitenma.manga@email.com

Subject: Meeting tomorrow

Akaashi-san,

Have you received the email from the higher-ups earlier?

PS. Don’t panic. I can already imagine you thinking of 1032983 possible scenarios for tomorrow. It’s gonna be fine and if I’m wrong I’ll treat you to lunch. Ha!

PPS. I already finished the chapters you asked me to :) Aren’t you proud of me, editor-san?

The Best-Selling Mangaka in the Entire World,

Tenma Udai

Akaashi clicked on the second email, heart pounding in his chest. Good thing he had already lit up his lavender candles earlier, their aroma helping him to calm down and to remember to breathe steadily in and out from his nose.

Bcc: akaashikeiji@gmail.com

From: jhotaro@execshonen.com

Subject: Client Project

Dear Akaashi-san,

Please come to my office tomorrow at 1 pm as I would like to discuss a matter of great importance with you. Udai-san will be in attendance at the meeting as well.

Regards,

Yamamoto Hotaro

* * *

Akaashi blinked once, then twice, to see if he had read the two emails correctly. Was he seeing things? He rubbed his eyes tiredly and squinted against the bright glare of his laptop. No, it was real. What did the executives want from him? He was just an editor in the company, it wasn’t like he commanded a high position and had other people rely on him for their jobs. Tenma was the only one he closely worked with, and to get a summon was a strange occurrence - and one that rarely happened - for him.

It probably had something to do with Tenma-san’s upcoming manga, he reasoned to himself. It was tempting to think about every possible detail that could have and will go wrong tomorrow, but he was aware of his tendencies to overthink and was trying to change it.

Back when he and Osamu were still together, the latter had a knack for telling whether Akaashi was on his way to combusting from overthinking. He had been Akaashi’s rock, and was one of the main reasons why Akaashi could calm himself down quickly after a bout of anxiety and worry.

* * *

“Keiji, love. Dontcha think ya need a break every now and then?” The two of them were in Osamu’s apartment and were sitting in the dining area. Akaashi had decided to visit Osamu for a few days despite the looming deadlines over his head and had brought an overnight bag as well as his trusty laptop all the way to Hyogo. He was currently typing an email at a rapid speed, trying to solve a work crisis that had just recently sprung up.

“It’s okay, Samu. As long as you’re here, I feel like I can do anything.” Akaashi replied absentmindedly, looking up from his laptop to shoot the other a slightly dopey smile.

Osamu looked at his boyfriend working silently, sipping a cup of coffee and admiring Akaashi’s face - his nose, which always seemed to scrunch up when he was stressed, the slight furrow in his eyebrows, gunmetal blue eyes unblinking and focused. He was probably overthinking a simple problem again. Granted, Osamu didn’t want to invalidate his boyfriend’s problems by making them out to be smaller than they actually were, but after months of dating, he had learned to recognize the difference between a major problem and a problem which Akaashi was spending too much time and effort into.

Eyes sweeping and admiring his boyfriend’s profile, Osamu leaned over the table and promptly plucked Akaashi’s eyeglasses from his nose before settling down again on his chair. Akaashi, still occupied with the email he was writing, paid him no mind. It was a normal occurrence for both of them, and Osamu had done this way too many times that the action had become routine for them.

“I don’t get how ya can still see in these glasses, baby.” He reached into his pocket and took out a piece of cloth, before wiping down the glasses which had fogged up from Akaashi taking sips from his coffee every now and then. “What seems to be the problem? Can I do anything to help?”

He leaned over again and placed Akaashi’s eyeglasses onthe latter’s nose, to which Akaashi mumbled a soft “I love you, thank you.”

“I love you too. Can you look at me for just a sec?”

Akaashi paused from his laptop and looked up, eyes blinking rapidly from staring at the bright screen for too long.

Osamu leaned forward and cupped Akaashi’s cheeks, his hands rough and warm, elbows resting on the table. As if a cat, Akaashi automatically closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth and comfort.

“Do you think what you’re worrying about will matter in a week?”

Akaashi shook his head, cheeks getting squished. “It won’t.”

“Are there others who can help you solve it, or is this something you need to do yourself?”

“I guess I can ask the others on what to do,” he replied slowly, understanding what Osamu was trying to point out. “I can ask the other editors what they did with the situation.”

He was right. Akaashi was worrying over something as if he was the only person on the team when there were many more who could help. Making a mental note to talk to Tenma-san and the others tomorrow, he pulled away from Osamu, shutting down his laptop.

“Let’s go to bed, Osamu.”

Osamu smiled at his boyfriend, relieved that it had taken little convincing for Akaashi to finally rest.

“Let’s go, baby.”

* * *

Shaking himself out of the sudden memory, Akaashi cupped his hands to his cheeks and closed his eyes. _Will this matter in a week? Do I need to do this by myself?_ He asked himself, calming down at the answers in front of him. No, it didn’t matter, because it was just a meeting and no, he had Tenma-san in the meeting as well. It was going to be alright. Tomorrow would be fine.

* * *

It did go alright - it went fantastic, even.

“We want to ask if you were willing to go on an overseas trip as the company representative, you would just be a resource speaker for a convention about the manga industry.”

Udai spoke up from where he was, leaning on the wall. “They’ve already talked to me about it, Akaashi. Don’t worry about me, we’re getting another editor to fill in for you while you’re gone.”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow at that. The day of reckoning had arrived, and Akaashi found himself inside his boss's office, Udai by his side, and a very enticing proposal wrapped up in a pretty bow sitting in front of him. It seems like everything had already been planned behind his back, and all that was left to do was for him to agree. In a different time, he would have been more suspicious, but he was slowly learning that it was sometimes best to leave things be - to not question everything that came his way.

It was a lesson he learned the hard way, if he was being honest. 

"How long would I be staying?" he asked, considering the calendar schedule he meticulously organized in his planner. What the company was offering was too good to be true, but Akaashi was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth this time.

"You're only going to give a talk for a day, but it's a five-day trip so you have enough time to explore the convention if you wanted to, or to go sight-seeing." Akaashi's boss gave him a smile, a welcome change from his otherwise strict and no-nonsense demeanor. "You're one of our most hardworking employees here, Akaashi-san. If anything else, this is more of a vacation with only a few work requirements."

Maybe this was just the universe telling him to take a break, Akaashi thought absent-mindedly. He turned to the mangaka, searching the other's face for any signs of discomfort or disagreement with their boss's proposal. As much as the proposal sounded appealing, Akaashi wouldn't continue with it if Udai had any doubts or misgivings about it. 

"I'll be good," Udai gave Akaashi a thumbs up. "It's just five days, I won't add any plot twists while you're gone if that makes you feel better."

Akaashi let out the breath that he was holding, the tension in his shoulders loosening and the furrow in his brows smoothening out. That was good to hear then. Maybe it really was time for him to enjoy himself this time around. 

"If that's the case, I'll gladly do it, sir."

Akaashi's boss clapped his hands, pleased with the turn of events. "That's settled then. I'll email you all the necessary information for the trip in a while. Dismissed."

Bowing and nodding his goodbyes to their superior, Akaashi exited the office with Tenma following closely behind. Paralyzed with absolute happiness, Akaashi sank down to the floor as soon as the door closed, a grin stretching from ear to ear.

"I can't believe that just happened," he breathed out, mind already whirring at all the possibilities. It was rare for someone like him to be recognized at work, being nothing but a simple editor, but here he was, both recognized and appreciated, not to mention on his way to an almost vacation paid for by the office. It felt nice, Akaashi thought, to know that his efforts were going somewhere, and that 

What was the convention all about? More importantly, where was it being held? There had been no mention of the convention's location, but whatever it may be, Akaashi was already mentally preparing the things he needed to pack and the people he needed to inform. He wondered if Kuroo could be bribed into watering his plants for five days. Kenma wouldn't do anything that forced him to go out of his house, and he had a gut feeling that Bokuto would probably kill his plants from overwatering them.

Udai smiled fondly at the editor, obviously glad for the intervention and the reward Akaashi rightfully deserved. "I told you it'd go well, didn't I? Looks like I'm not treating you to lunch today after all. " He hummed innocently, "I heard chocolates are a good souvenir, but a t-shirt won't be so bad either!"

Akaashi laughed at what Udai was implying, excitement warming his body all over. "I'll get you something, don't you worry." Maybe he was wrong, then. He may not be the happiest he had ever been in his life, but maybe there was still a little spark left in life that was reserved for little surprises like these. Happiness was fleeting - that much he knew, and though nothing could compare to how he felt before, to fully feel and embrace the sensation of joy all over again was gratifying, after having felt nothing like it for so long.

(And if his hands twitched for a second, fingers tempted to dial a number long forgotten, Akaashi resisted it. He probably didn't care anymore, and Akaashi could - no, _would_ \- be happy without him anyway.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi jets off and receives a strange message from someone he used to know, featuring Kuroo's poor French skills and Bokuto's fixation with One Direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im kinda losing fuel for this fic but ... ill try my best to finish it huhu here's a short filler but i promise there's a lil bit of important info scattered here if u look hard enough,,,
> 
> ++ i was cleaning my laptop and found that i apparently wrote three whole chapters for this fic and i just didn't post them so now here is my apology as i post all three

“It’s good that you’re finally taking a break,” Kuroo commented from the sofa as he watched Akaashi pace back and forth from the living room to his bedroom, where he was getting the things he needed to pack for the trip.

Kuroo and Kenma had decided to drop by Akaashi’s apartment, seeing as they were Tokyo-based as well and it would be easy for them to visit. Bokuto, on the other hand, was disappointed at not being able to see Akaashi off because of team training and being based in Osaka. He had forced Kuroo to set up a video call so that he was still present - albeit virtually - in the little, unplanned get-together in Akaashi’s apartment.

Kuroo was lounging with Kenma in the living room, the latter asleep and the former happily chatting away with Bokuto on the phone.

“Akaashi, don’t forget to bring a cap!” Bokuto’s tinny voice blared from the speakerphone, listing off random items he thought would be useful. “And don’t forget sunblock, and oh! You can’t forget sunglasses!” He beamed cheerfully onscreen, chest visibly puffing out with enthusiasm.

“Idiot, Akaashi isn’t going to the beach.” Kuroo snickered at the other’s downcast expression.

“But you still need sunblock wherever you go. The Korean skincare thingamajig I’m doing said that sunblock is an important part of the routine,” Bokuto argued, the camera going shaky.

“Let me show you my skincare products, they’re pretty cool!”

Akaashi entered the living room once again where his suitcase was sitting wide open.

“Akaashi! Have you packed your sunblock?” the spiker’s camera stilled for a moment. Kuroo turned the phone‘s camera to Akaashi, shrugging his shoulders to Akaashi’s silent question.

“I’ll pack it later, Bokuto-san,” he replied, settling himself on the floor near his suitcase. “I just need to finish packing my clothes and then I’ll do that next.”

“Where are you going anyway? Kuroo told me you’re not going to the beach.”

"I think it was London?" Akaashi took out the clothes from his suitcase and rearranged them to fit. He was a light packer but he had a feeling that he would be going home with a bulging suitcase given the number of presents he was planning to buy and give to his family and friends back home.

"I'm arriving on the last day of the convention so after I give my presentation, there's nothing left for me to do here. Company paid for my flight to London and back home, but they told me if I wanted to explore a bit, I was allowed a few vacation days off."

"That's kinda generous of them, don't you think?" Kuroo piped up, loosening his tie and resting his feet on the coffee table in front of him. "I wish I got to do something like that at work."

"You literally travel around Japan to scout players, Kuroo-san." Akaashi commented dryly, glancing at Kenma - who was still sleeping soundly - and Bokuto - whose camera was going crazy once again with activity. He didn't even want to think about what was happening with Bokuto.

"Besides,"' he added. "They're only paying for my transportation to and from Japan. If I wanted to go out, I'd have to shell out money from my own pocket."

Still!" Bokuto protested, camera focusing again but this time zoomed in on - was that his eyebrow? What was going on in the MSBY dorms, Akaashi was fine with never finding out. "It's still pretty nice of them to give you vacation days after the convention."

Kuroo nodded, "Bo's right. Don't forget us in Europe, Akaashi," he moaned dramatically. "If you get a European guy to sweep you off your feet, I'd totally recommend getting a French one!"

Bokuto frowned at Kuroo's suggestion, looking like the statement had greatly confused him. "Whaddya mean Kuroo? Of course, Akaashi's gotta get himself an English dude! He's gotta get one of those - those --"

The spiker paused, nose scrunching up as he tried to complete the thought of his sentence. “Y'know those dudes in a group who sing?"

Kuroo raised an eyebrow tiredly. "You mean One Direction," he deadpanned, knowing exactly where the other was trying to get at. 

"Yeah!" Bokuto nodded enthusiastically, his camera moving along with his head. "If Akaashi's gonna get a guy, it should be one of those! They gotta have a British accent -- like Zayn or Harry!"

"Bokuto-san, please stop projecting your One Direction love onto my love life," Akaashi spoke mildly, entertained by the flow of the conversation. Bokuto had just recently entered a boyband music phase - much to his concern and to the endless laughter of Atsumu and Kuroo. He was rather late to the One Direction phase, but it made for strangely entertaining conversations, as the spiker tried to insert his references every once in a while.

Finally finished packing his things, Akaashi stood up and sat on his suitcase, closing it shut with a satisfying click. "Before I finish, can any of you water my plants and feed the cat while I'm gone?" 

Bokuto and Kuroo looked at each other for a panicked second. Akaashi's cat was adorable, but it was a well-known fact that the pet was a pain to feed, what with the cat's propensity to just jump out of nowhere with its claws out when in the presence of people, except for Akaashi. The cat had never really warmed up to anyone else besides Akaashi and Osamu – who had adopted the cat together back then. And since Osamu wasn’t around anymore, the task of helping Akaashi out with the pet fell to Kuroo, Kenma, and Bokuto – who had never made their way into the cat’s good books, despite being regular fixtures in Akaashi’s apartment. 

"I can't! I'm in Osaka, so it's gotta be Kuroo then!"

"As if Akaashi's going to trust you with his plants, Bo. You literally pricked yourself trying to water a cactus that doesn't even need water once."

Akaashi looked at Kuroo expectantly, to which the latter shied away from, before kicking Kenma awake.

"As much as I would love to," Kuroo shot the editor a charming grin. If he had directed that to others the effect would have been instantaneous, but this was Akaashi, who had years of experience of dealing with both his and Bokuto's antics.

Akaashi gave Kuroo a bland look, already knowing what he was going to say. That didn't stop Kuroo from pushing on with his plan, though.

"-I think Kenma would be willing-"

"I am not willing to feed Akaashi's cat, Kuro. That thing is a menace - sorry, Akaashi."

"Kenma? How long have you been awake?"

* * *

After having successfully bribed Kuroo with a dozen favors to begrudgingly feed his cat, Akaashi found himself in the airport, passport tucked loosely under his arm, hands gripping his luggage. Despite having met in his apartment a while ago, Kuroo, Kenma, and Bokuto had all decided to accompany Akaashi to the airport.

Akaashi would be touched, really, he would be, if it wasn't for the fact that he knew that Bokuto was probably there to beg for a souvenir, and Kuroo was spouting off random French words he learned the other day evert as they rolled through the airport. Kenma was his usual, quiet self, to which the editor was grateful for.

"Akaashi," Bokuto started, to which Akaashi just sighed in exasperated fondness, already knowing what the other was trying to get to.

"The album is called Four and the cover is of the five of them, I know, Bokuto-san." Akaashi recited for what was probably the fifth time that day patiently before the spiker could even finish his sentence.

The four of them paused in front of the departure area, with Kuroo walking over to engulf Akaashi in a hug. “ _Veiliege reizen_ , Akaashi.” At this point, Akaashi had given up on trying to guess what kind of language Kuroo was speaking and had just decided to support his friend's polyglot dreams. 

"Thank you, Kuroo-san," he replied politely, assuming whatever Kuroo was saying meant well.

Not one to be outdone, Bokuto joined in the hug as well. “You’re the best Akaashi!” Bokuto blabbered excitedly, crushing both Kuroo and Akaashi with his pro athlete biceps in the hug. “Don’t forget to send us pictures and gifts and -“

Kenma sighed from behind Kuroo, but reluctantly stepped forward to join the embrace.

"Enjoy your trip."

After a few seconds of an admittedly strange sight of four grown men in an awkwardly long group hug, Akaashi broke off and smiled at his friends, feeling warm all over. It was times like these when he absolutely adored them, though he would never let Bokuto and Kuroo hear that - they would probably live off the high the knowledge would give them for the next five years.

Instead of voicing his thoughts out loud, Akaashi gripped his passport and nodded at the three before finally turning around – all set and ready to board. "See you later."

"Enjoy, Akaashi." Kenma nodded at him curtly, arms shoved into his pockets as he waited beside the two loud men. 

" _Ciao_ ," Kuroo called out, before switching to French to annoy Kenma and Akaashi again, " _Avoir un vol en toute sécurité!_ "

“Hey, that sounded cool! What was that?”

As Akaashi stepped towards the gate, plane ticket in hand and feeling more excited than he had ever been in the past few years, the last thing he heard was the beginnings Kuroo and Bokuto bickering over Bokuto begging the former to teach him some French.

* * *

**Miya Atsumu**

heard from bokuto ur going on a flight. safe trip!

<received 12:05 pm>

Akaashi stared at the message on his phone, not knowing what to reply. Miya Atsumu had always been a friend of a friend for him, and they had never really been quite close, even with Akaashi having dated his twin before. They had a friendly relationship, but when Akaashi had broken up with Osamu, Atsumu had understandably distanced himself from the editor, though they still remained pleasant towards each other during MSBY matches.

Granted, Atsumu had been considerably icy towards Akaashi in the first few months after the fallout, but he was not the same, immature setter that he had been back in high school. The blonde had warmed up to Akaashi again as time passed, but there was no denying that the atmosphere would always turn awkward if the two of them were left together in one room. 

As much as Akaashi would tell Bokuto that he didn’t mind, he was still a bit downcast over losing a friendship with Atsumu. Atsumu had been a good friend and good company, and when Akaashi had lost Osamu, the two of them came like a package deal. He lost a friend in the process as well.

**Akaashi Keiji**

thank you, Atsumu-san.

<sent 12:06 pm>

**Miya Atsumu**

if u don’t mind me asking, where are u off to?

<received 12:06 pm>

Surprised at the quick reply and the effort Atsumu had made in continuing the conversation – something he would have normally never done – Akaashi typed quickly, sending his message before he lost his signal.

**Akaashi Keiji**

i’m going to London for a work convention.

<sent 12:07 pm>

**Miya Atsumu**

london, huh? interesting

<received 12:07 pm>

**Akaashi Keiji**

what’s so interesting about it?

<sent 12:07 pm>

Akaashi had never tried to approach Atsumu to try and shakily salvage the friendship that they had before. Though he disliked knowing that he had inadvertently hurt people and couldn’t do anything about it, he also knew that Atsumu was fiercely protective of his twin brother, and would do nothing to see Osamu get hurt again – in this case, hurt his twin by staying friends and in close contact with his ex.

It was a battle that he had lost even before it had even started, and Akaashi had already conceded defeat a long time ago. Breakups were always a messy business, no matter how much a couple tried to end things as amicably as they could, after all. A heart being broken was never broken into half equally. Someone would always get the shorter end of the stick.

Akaashi watched as the three animated dots appeared in their conversation, waiting for Atsumu to reply. It appeared that the setter was probably typing and retyping his response for a while, before settling on a short, prompt reply.

**Miya Atsumu**

ah just heard from someone london’s a pretty nice place to be in this time of the year. enjoy urself there :)

<received 12:10 pm>

* * *

Now, Akaashi wasn’t one to blame people, but at that time, it felt like Bokuto and Atsumu had conspired – or maybe the universe was just looking for someone to play with, and had conveniently chosen Akaashi for that purpose.

The convention was quick, to say the least. When Akaashi’s boss had said that all he needed to do was to show up, talk for a while, and he’d be free to go, Akaashi didn’t expect for it to be exactly as he had said.

There was nothing noteworthy about the convention, and while Akaashi had made himself enough business contacts and possible connections to make the publishing house proud, the event had flown by so quickly that he was surprised to find himself aimlessly wandering around the London streets, enjoying the spring air and the bustling city life.

London wasn’t that much different from Tokyo, if one was talking in terms of urbanization. The city was vibrant and Akaashi knew just enough English – thanks in part to Kuroo’s hobby of picking up languages - to tide himself over when interacting with strangers to ask for directions, or when buying the list of possible gifts Udai and Bokuto had tried to discreetly send him a while ago.

Udai would probably be satisfied with a dorky shirt, Akaashi thought to himself. His co-worker was very easy to please – similar to his protégé, Hinata – and would be happy with just about anything. Kenma and Kuroo would probably be the same, though Akaashi did make a note to buy Kenma biscuits and a Union Jack pillow for Kuroo – who would probably love it, unironically, as the culture aficionado he touted himself to be.

Bokuto, however – had specified _exactly_ what he had wanted: the album. Though to his credit, had told Akaashi that he wasn’t in any way required to buy it, and if he did, Bokuto would pay him back for it.

Though Akaashi liked to save as much as the next person, maybe this time he was allowed to indulge himself – and his friends as well. Bokuto had never asked for anything except for this one thing, and Akaashi wasn’t opposed to splurging during this vacation.

Akaashi was also looking for some vinyl himself, so finding a records shop and buying Bokuto his album was a great way to kill two birds with one stone, a plan Akaashi was proud of thinking of all by himself.

It was about time he put the vinyl player he had back home to good use and now was as good as any day to get back to his hobby of collecting records that he had abandoned before.

And so after grabbing a quick bite and doing all of the touristy things his mother had demanded he take pictures of – like visiting the Buckingham Palace and an awkward encounter with a stranger asking them to take a picture of him in a red telephone booth – Akaashi had almost crossed off all of the things he had wanted to do in the city.

Today was reserved for souvenir shopping and exploring the city, and so Akaashi had taken the train – or the Tube, apparently as it was called there – and had started on his quest to find himself some good records to take home and to find Bokuto the album he kept raving about.

The first record shop that he visited was thankfully empty, as there would be no one around to witness him jumble up his English in front of the cashier. The store was cramped, a hole in the wall type of place that one wouldn’t have noticed if they weren’t paying attention or looking for it specifically. While it was a tight space, Akaashi appreciated the homey ambiance and the retro feel it gave off, the store décor and vinyl making him feel like he had stepped back in time.

Walking over to the cashier, Akaashi tried hard to remember Kuroo’s English lessons. “Excuse me, do you have ABBA?” he asked.

“It’s right at the back of the store,” the salesperson pointed to Akaashi’s back, looking very much approachable. “It’s organized alphabetically, so it’s near the front of the shelf.”

“Near the front, I see.” He nodded his thanks and made a beeline for the back, excitement spreading throughout his body. He had almost forgotten how enjoyable vinyl-hunting was, how it felt like a treasure hunt looking into the records of the past and striking gold whenever he found a rare vinyl of artists he absolutely adored.

Finding the spot the cashier was referring to, Akaashi hummed happily as his fingers deftly sorted out the records, getting lost in the repetitive motion. He had missed this feeling. There was just something about record-hunting that made him feel calm and at ease. The effort of digging through hundreds of records, the feeling of finally finding a good one and taking it home, all of it made Akaashi feel accomplished – especially when he finally had the chance to play his records and hear the music from his tiny vinyl player.

As he methodically went through the store’s selection, grabbing a few records here and there – was that Air Supply? – Akaashi allowed himself to be fully immersed in the process, humming a little tune of delight as he pulled out another vinyl.

He was so busy admiring his finds, he didn’t notice that another person had entered the store as well. 

“Do you have ABBA here?”

“Oh! It’s near the back of the store, right where the other customer is.”

The sound of footsteps grew closer while Akaashi remained oblivious as he clutched an Abba record in one hand and held another one to the light, inspecting it.

“Keiji?”

He knew that voice.

Akaashi turned around slowly, trying to convince himself his ears were hearing the wrong thing. There standing in front of him - defying all known rules of the universe and fate - was Miya Osamu, cheeks red - it was from the cold, there was no way he could be blushing - and an all too familiar half-smile on his face. 

Akaashi felt cold. 

"Ah, I shouldn't be surprised. You always did have a thing for vinyl, didn't you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls i just wanted to pay homage to my 1d roots circa 2012 but the UK wont actually play a big role here that's all!! also i just think Kuroo wld be the type to either pick up languages rly quickly or he sucks at it rly bad but still wants to learn anyway


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi and Osamu have a mini reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my favorite chapter that is all i will say!! i also plotted out everything, this is going to be 12 chapters in total :-)

**_[FLASHBACK]_ **

During their early days of dating, Osamu had been in Tokyo for business matters - to the surprise of Akaashi.

He had been in his office at that time, sending an email from his laptop when his phone let out a shrill ring, disturbing the otherwise silent and focused atmosphere in the department.

Pausing from his email, Akaashi had apologized to his co-workers and answered the call immediately - as Osamu was always a pleasant addition to his day.

“Keiji,” Osamu had drawled, his Kansai accent prominent in the one word.

With blood rushing up to his cheeks, which were already feeling warm from the excitement, Akaashi composed himself. “Osamu, how are you?”

In the background, he could make out the sounds of cars and busy crowds. Osamu had probably stepped out of Onigiri Miya to make this call.

“I was just curious if you were busy right now?”

“Oh no, not really. I was just doing some paperwork but the deadline’s in two weeks,” he replied.

Missing his boyfriend a little bit more at the sound of his voice, he asked, “What about you? What are you doing right now?”

Osamu laughed softly, his tone mirthful. “Well earlier I was in the s _hinkansen_ and now I’m in Tokyo because I had some free time and I realized that I missed you.”

Akaashi inhaled loudly at that, head spinning at the information. Osamu was in Tokyo?

“Do you think you can leave work early? I’m outside of your building right now,” Osamu added. “Look out your window, I can see you.”

Rushing towards the nearest window in his office, heart beating loudly in his chest, Akaashi peered down from the eleventh floor, anticipating in excitement. Osamu was outside, wearing his signature black cap. He had ditched his usual apron and Onigiri Miya sweater for a loose button-up and slacks and well - Akaashi had never seen someone so beautiful before.

Osamu, who had been clutching a paper bag in one hand and his phone in the other, saw Akaashi looking down at him and winked.

“If you’re not busy maybe you can tour me around Tokyo?” Osamu’s voice rang through Akaashi’s phone hopefully. “It’s okay if you can’t though, I can just drop off these onigiri I made for you.”

Akaashi turned away from the window, not wanting the other to see his darkening blush and his flustered state.

“I can get off right now, I’ll meet you at the lobby in,” he checked his watch, “fifteen minutes.”

“That quick?” Osamu laughed at the sound of Akaashi’s barely-contained giddiness. Akaashi huffed, “Don’t tease me, Osamu.”

“I’m not complaining either way. I’ll see you in a bit baby.”

* * *

“Where are we going?”

Akaashi held Osamu’s hand tightly, swinging their arms back and forth as he navigated their way through the crowd.

Instead of answering Osamu’s question, Akaashi trudged forward determinedly, stopping in front of a tiny store.

They had stopped in front of a tiny store, and if one peered inside they would see dozens and dozens of vintage records stacked together in tiny shelves.

“I didn’t know you liked vinyl, baby.”

“I’ve always been fond of them, but I’ve never found the time to go record-hunting until now. So you, Miya Osamu, will be my record-hunting buddy for today.”

“Just today?”

“Well, if you want,” Akaashi scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I won’t mind if you joined me anytime. It’s just that Kenma and the others don’t necessarily enjoy coming with me, because it’s dusty and I only ever visit Shibuya to window shop, since I don’t have a player of my own.”

“So you just look around here?” Osamu clarified, a plan forming at the back of his head, though it would be months before he could put it into action.

Akaashi nodded sadly, “I have records in my apartment, but I’m still saving up enough money to treat myself to one of those vintage players. My parents don’t have a turntable anymore either, so I just look around here and there since in stores like these, they usually allow you to play their records before buying.”

He turned away from Osamu’s heated gaze, feeling sheepish at having shared too much. “It’s weird but,” he murmured defensively, “I’ll get my own player one day.”

“No, no, I was just surprised.” He rubbed Akaashi’s hand soothingly, the two of them still standing in front of the store. “I’ve always enjoyed listening to my parents play records all the time in Hyogo so this,” he gestured to the store, “is a nice surprise for me.”

Akaashi tugged Osamu towards the door. “Shall we go inside then?”

“Whatever you wish for.”

* * *

December 11

“Happy birthday, baby.” Osamu was staying for the weekend to celebrate Akaashi’s birthday, and the two of them had planned to just stay in Akaashi’s apartment together, seeing as they rarely had the chance to spend time together.”

Osamu walked up behind Akaashi, a handkerchief in his hands. “Would you mind closing your eyes?” he had asked then, removing Akaashi’s eyeglasses and wrapping the cloth around his eyes.

“I knew you were planning a surprise,” Akaashi giggled as he felt the other’s warmth on his back. “You weren’t even trying to hide it.”

Osamu raised an eyebrow at that, even though Akaashi couldn’t see him. “You’re sure about that?” he had asked, tone questioning. “If you’re so sure you know everything then, can you guess what the surprise is?” he challenged the other, tying the knot securely around his head before gripping Akaashi’s shoulders and turning him around.

“You have a gift, but I stopped trying to find out what it is,” Akaashi explained as he blindly raised his arms, before placing his hands on what he presumed was Osamu’s shoulders. He felt Osamu gripping his waist tightly, a sign that the thing that he was touching was, in fact, Osamu.

“That’s good, baby. I know you’re smart enough to find out what it was, but it’s a good thing ya didn’t try to sleuth yer way in.”

Akaashi keened at Osamu’s praise, feeling Osamu press his lips lightly on Akaashi’s forehead.

“Stay here,” Osamu leaned in to whisper towards Akaashi’s ear before pulling away, a ghost of a breath tickling his ears.

As Akaashi felt the warmth around him disappear – Osamu had probably left to do whatever it was for his birthday surprise – he strained his ears to try and figure out what it actually was. To his disappointment, however, Osamu was moving silently around the apartment, and there were no loud thuds or any noise to indicate what exactly the other was doing.

A hand gripped Akaashi from where he was standing, gently leading him to sit on what he thought was the living room couch. “Here ya go, baby.” He could hear the sound of an object being placed on the coffee table, and Osamu rustling around with something else.

“Can I take it off now?” Akaashi wiggled in his seat, fingers itching to untie his blindfold.

“You can remove it now. Happy birthday, Keiji.”

At Osamu’s words, Akaashi quickly undid the knot in his blindfold and removed it, his eyes catching sight of – was that a turntable? A real, actual turntable?

“Is this—” Akaashi paused for a second trying to stop himself from turning into a blubbering mess. He looked up at Osamu, who was watching his reaction carefully, eyes sweeping and taking note of Akaashi’s every expression. At Akaashi’s searching eyes, he nodded.

“Open it.”

Hands shaking, Akaashi gingerly touched the lid before pulling it open, admiring the turntable at every possible angle. He had never really owned one before, as he had always found them to be out of his budget and had resolved to buy one as soon as possible, though it seemed that he had never found the chance to do so with his busy schedule and strict budget.

Osamu pulled something out from the side, handing them to Akaashi.

“What’s this?” Akaashi sniffled, taking the plainly wrapped gift from Osamu, still trying to control the tears threatening to escape. Osamu smiled at him, raising a gentle hand to wipe the tears on his lashes.

“I think I’m gonna have to take back that gift from you, if you’re already crying this hard over the turntable,” he teased, inching closer to place his boyfriend’s head on his shoulder comfortingly, who was still sniffling away.

Akaashi pulled away from Osamu, looking betrayed and hugging the package tightly to his chest. “You- you already gave it!” he pointed an accusing finger at Osamu, turning to hide his stuffy, red nose. “No take backs,” he shook his head, “this is mine now, love.”

Osamu leaned back from his seat and watched Akaashi cradle the package protectively, amused at the sight of his boyfriend sporting red eyes and a stuffy nose, while glaring in his pajamas. The feeling of fondness creeping in was too much to bear for him, and all Osamu wanted to do was to wrap his boyfriend in the biggest hug he could give.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, still fighting the urge to squish and smother his boyfriend with kisses. “Go on, check out what’s inside.”

Akaashi tore open the gift, staring at the records he had been eyeing for a while now, and kept on looking at whenever they visited Shibuya on his lap, before launching himself towards Osamu, burying his face onto the other’s shoulder. “You’re so stupid, ‘Samu,” he sniffled, clutching his boyfriend tighter. “Now my gift for your birthday sucks!”

Osamu stifled a laugh at that, arms wrapping around Akaashi. “Birthday sex isn’t that bad, baby.”

“It is if your boyfriend just got you all the ABBA records you’ve been looking at for the past five months!” Akaashi’s muffled voice rang out indignantly.

“You know this relationship isn’t a competition baby, as long as it makes you happy, I’m happy as well.”

“...Thank you, love.”

“You’re welcome baby. C’mon, let’s go try out that new turntable of yours.”

“If you just wanted an excuse to dance with me, you should’ve just played some songs on your phone.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

* * *

**_[PRESENT DAY]_ **

“Hey.” Osamu gave Akaashi a half-smile, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sweater, looking like nothing had changed.

Osamu looked good.

He always did, though Akaashi thought he was a bit biased in that aspect. He was wrapped in warm clothes, cheeks a bit red from the biting air outside. Akaashi stood frozen in his spot, unsure of what to say. Out of all the possible things that could happen to him, well, this was not one he had considered. When the two of them had broken up, it was easy to avoid seeing each other entirely, seeing as they were both based in different cities. But it seemed like the universe had focused her attention on Akaashi and decided to play with the strings of his life a little bit.

Out of all the places in the world, why here?

What were the odds of even bumping into Osamu in the middle of a foreign country? Akaashi was no mathematician, but even he was sure that the chances of that happening to someone was extraordinarily low. Suddenly confronted with the certain someone he had tried and tried to forget and to push out of his mind, Akaashi stood still in his place, shellshocked and speechless.

There was a swirl of emotions threatening to rise up within his stomach, making him sick and queasy all over. Nevertheless, he mustered a smile – though it probably looked more like a grimace – towards the latter. Mind racing, thoughts speeding through his brain a mile a second, Akaashi frantically tried to think of a proper response.

“...Miya-kun,” he finally offered, cringing inwardly at the name that had seemed to spill its way out of his mouth. He would’ve called the other Osamu, but the name just felt too intimate with its syllables once curling around his mouth in a fond manner.

If Osamu flinched at the sound of Akaashi calling him by his last name formally, like an acquaintance he had just met on the streets, well, Akaashi pretended not to see it. This was as hard for him as it probably was for Osamu. Or maybe Osamu was better off, and it was just weird for him to suddenly encounter the one who dumped him years ago in a random record shop in London.

The two of them stared at each other in silence for a while. Akaashi fidgeted with the records in his hands, eyes darting in every direction, refusing to meet Osamu’s heavy gaze. He could feel the other’s eyes studying from head to toe, drinking up the sight of Akaashi after having disappeared from each other’s lives completely years ago. Akaashi swallowed down the bile that was rising in his throat, eyes blinking slowly to stem the sudden onslaught of tears that were threatening to make its way down his cheeks.

Damn it.

He wasn’t prone to random outbursts of emotion and was often known as the cool-headed, logical person with his friends. But whenever he was Osamu, it felt like a switch had flipped off, and his emotions were all so very shallow – in a sense wherein it was extremely easy for Osamu to pick up on what Akaashi was feeling without the need for words.

Akaashi was a subtle person, but there was just something about Osamu that just made him _feel_. Perhaps when he fell hard, that was also the time he started to feel things a bit more deeply. Osamu had pulled him from his logical, overthinking shell, helping him express emotions he had never outright shown before.

“How have you been?” Osamu offered politely. He could probably see the different emotions flash across Akaashi’s face and had probably noticed the shine in his eyes, but if there was one thing Osamu was good at, it was leaving things unsaid – a subtle attempt at keeping the peace between the two parties.

Taking a deep, silent breath, Akaashi blinked once, then twice, before feeling his heart slow down to a steady thrum. “Ah, I’ve been pretty good. I’m actually just here for a short work stint,” he explained, to which Osamu nodded along attentively.

_He’s still as sensitive and attentive as ever._

“Ah.” Osamu fell silent at that, a stifling silence blanketing the two of them.

It was ironic, how Osamu had been the one to break it off between the two of them, and here he was, starting a conversation with Akaashi all over again. Osamu had always taken the lead in their relationship. He had been the one to start it, the one to end it, and even now, he was the one who had approached Akaashi in an odd mix of circumstance and fate.

Osamu scratched the back of his neck awkwardly while Akaashi shifted his weight from foot to foot. Both of them glanced at each other from the corner of their eyes, both grasping at the other’s body language and non-verbal cues to try and find a steady footing in a conversation they never knew they would be having – until it happened.

Akaashi didn’t know what to say. That was a fact.

What was also a fact, however, was that while he was happy with his life, he could not deny that there was a gaping hole – however tiny it may be – still sitting on his heart, waiting for something to happen. Something that would allow him to seek his closure and something that would finally let him throw away the key to the lock which tightly held the bittersweet memories of the past locked behind him.

Heartbreak and all the messy things that came with falling in love was a weird thing, he supposed. It may not have been their time yesterday, last month, and in the last five years, but maybe this time, things would be different. Akaashi would find that time when their lines would finally collide once again.

He had spent years tossing and turning over the what-ifs and the have-beens. Maybe Osamu held the key to finally silencing that uneasiness that lied within.

A rush of determination and adrenaline headed straight to his head, and before Akaashi knew it, he was already speaking, words spilling out without a second thought.

“Would you like to grab a drink with me?”

* * *

The café Osamu had suggested was a small, intimate one, though it wasn’t lacking with customers. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect to see you here out of all places,” Osamu sat down across Akaashi, setting down the two drinks in his hand. “Here’s yours. You still like iced coffee, right?”

Akaashi nodded, taking the cup from Osamu with his two hands cupped around it. “I’ve actually started to like my coffee black, but iced coffee still remains my number one. Thank you for the drink, by the way.”

“Who knew,” Osamu cracked a smile, elbows on the table and body leaning towards Akaashi. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d willingly drink something so bitter and hot, what with your sweet tooth.”

“Well, some things change, Miya-kun,” Akaashi replied primly, refusing to let his guard down around Osamu. To an outsider, they would’ve looked like two friends just enjoying a drink together but in reality, Akaashi was one step away from bolting towards the door.

The encounter was uncomfortable for him, to say the least, but he couldn’t find it in himself to make his excuses and go. He _knew_ he could do that, and while Osamu would probably see right through him, the man would be polite enough to let him go without saying a word. But there was something that kept him rooted to his seat, swirling his coffee with a stirrer as his ex-boyfriend sat across him, a sight so nostalgic it made his heart ache.

Akaashi was generally a logical person. He liked his information laid out in numbers, in facts, in spoken truths. But there was just something about Osamu that made him want to believe in the universe’s will and fate and destiny, that there was an unknown force tugging at the strings from above that led him down the path where he was right now. Akaashi liked to believe in the _because_ , but there were times when he just threw caution to the wind and believed in the _despites_.

It seemed that today was one of those days because what he was currently doing was completely out of character for him. The two of them knew this but it was a knowledge that was left unsaid.

“Won’t you call me Osamu?” the air around them felt warm and despite the circumstances surrounding them, Akaashi found himself settling down further in his seat, cup warming his hands up, and the sight of Osamu helping him relax even more.

It was weird, he knew that. He wanted to blame it on Osamu, he really did. Just seconds ago he was ready to leave the café but it seemed that Osamu – who had always had a calming presence to him – had never lost his effect on Akaashi.

His crinkling eyes and lopsided grin still did something to Akaashi, and if before it felt like an awkward encounter with two exes, right now it felt like nothing had changed, and that they were just two old friends who were catching up with each other.

“The thing is, Miya-kun,” Akaashi’s voice was clear, with no room for hesitation. “It’s kind of weird for me to call you that when we used to date before.”

“Okay that’s true,” Osamu conceded, looking peaceful and unbothered by the mention of their past. “But you do remember I have a twin who shall not be named,” – Akaashi snorted at that – “and I’d like to think that we’re close enough to go beyond the formalities. We are friends, after all.”

Friends? Osamu had always been considerate, way too considerate even. He always made space and adjusted when needed; and here he was, doing it all over again. Akaashi didn’t think anyone would willingly call someone who had broken their heart a friend, but here was Osamu, all sorts of pleasant and lovely, having just treated his ex-boyfriend to a nice cup of coffee and remembering his order even if he didn’t need to anymore.

Friends didn’t call him Keiji, and friends certainly did not look at him like he held the world in his hands. Or maybe Akaashi was just being selfish and imagining things.

 _This wasn’t the time to pick apart every single word that came out of Osamu’s mouth_ , Akaashi scolded himself. The man was just being pleasant and it was up to him to return the favor.

Instead of acknowledging Osamu’s statement, Akaashi decided to change the subject. “What brings you to London then,” a pause, before Akaashi continued, “-Osamu?”

Osamu tapped his fingers on the table mindlessly, “Don’t laugh but –“ he shot Akaashi a lighthearted glare, “- I wanted to go food-hopping in Europe. It’s nothing else, just something that’s purely self-indulgent.”

“I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Akaashi hummed thoughtfully. “You’ve never really been satisfied with just cooking.”

“The point of life is not just to cook well, but to eat well. Y’know that saying?” Osamu furrowed his brows, getting excited about the topic. “It’s like having your cake and eating it too.”

Akaashi laughed at that, feeling himself ease into a friendly banter with Osamu. Food had always been an easy go-to topic for the two of them. “I don’t think that’s how the saying works, Osamu.”

“It’s not?”

“Do you see a reason to doubt me?” he raised a teasing brow at Osamu, a slight grin tugging at his lips. “It’s not like I’m an editor or a reliable source,” he sighed dramatically, pushing his glasses upward.

Osamu brightened at Akaashi’s response, growing more animated in his actions. “I forgot you were here for a work thing! What’s that all about?”

“You need to tell me about your food trip first,” Akaashi harrumphed, taking his mug to his lips to hide the smile that was beginning to form. “I didn’t expect you to just drop it all and go on a trip to Europe, to be honest. How did you manage to make time for that, even with Onigiri Miya?”

“Ah,” Osamu grinned mischievously at Akaashi. “Try to take a guess.”

“You bribed Atsumu with enough food to run the thing during their off-season,” Akaashi deadpanned, watching Osamu’s face twist in shock.

“How’d you guess that right? Don’t tell me I’m that predictable!”

“I’ve known you for years, Osamu.”

“Oh? You’re not usually very... forthcoming with stuff.” At the sight of Akaashi’s face rearranging into a blank stare, Osamu hastily added, “It’s not a bad thing though. I’m happy you’re speaking your mind more.”

“I’m happy for you, really.” Osamu looked at him sincerely, a fond smile on his face. “Forgive me for saying this but, you’ve always been a bit...” he trailed off.

“A bit what?”

“You know,” Osamu gestured vaguely. “A workaholic. You’re doing well on your own now. Not that you weren’t before, but... sometimes you needed an extra push from me to realize that you needed breaks every now and then. But here you are now, taking time for yourself and whatnot. It’s just... nice.” He finished.

They finished their drinks quietly, stealing glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking. It was a comfortable silence, and both of them were content with drinking up the other’s presence after having last seen each other two years ago.

Akaashi opened his mouth to speak, wanting to try and keep the conversation going, but Osamu beat him to it. “Are you happy, Keiji?”

Akaashi paused, taken aback by the question. “Are you?” he asked, though what he wanted to say was “ _I’m okay, I’m getting by one day at a time but I don’t want you to know that.”_

Osamu rubbed his chin thoughtfully, unsurprised at Akaashi deflecting. “I’m doing good, I guess. Life could be better –“ he shot a meaningful look at Akaashi, one he was too tired to try and decode – “but Onigiri Miya’s been doin’ real good right now, so I have no complaints.” He looked at Akaashi expectantly, obviously waiting for Akaashi to respond as well.

Trust Osamu to never miss a single thing.

“I’m getting by,” Akaashi decided to just tell the truth. He had nothing to lose here, and it wasn’t like Osamu was ever going to go back into his life again. This was a one-time event, an event that he could just shove at the back of his mind and forgot it ever happened the minute he stepped into Tokyo once again. “Work’s good, Kenma, and the others are great as well, and the cat –” Osamu smiled at the mention of the cat they had adopted – “is so big now. If we’re talking about everything though, I’m actually kind of relieved?”

If Osamu was curious about something, or even just how the cat was doing after having co-parented with Akaashi for a while he didn’t say it, staying silent and waiting for the editor to expound.

“I’ve been feeling kind of burnt out these past few months. I’m actually kind of grateful I even got this vacation, it’s —” Akaashi rubbed his hands around his mug, “—it’s been a great breather for me –"

“Are your hands cold?” Osamu interrupted, staring at his hands, before taking his hands out of his jacket and cupping it around Akaashi’s. “I’m sorry for interrupting, it’s just I know that your hands are scarily cold at times,” he rubbed his thumb on top of Akaashi’s.

Akaashi flustered, Osamu’s actions cutting off his train of thought. “It’s spring, Osamu. I can handle a bit of cold here and there.”

Osamu cringed, the tips of his ears turning red. “Ah—sorry, force of habit. If you don’t want to I can just –” he pulled his hands gently from Akaashi’s, only for the other to rest his hand on top of Osamu’s, keeping it in place.

“No, no, it’s fine. I do get cold easily anyway.” Akaashi dismissed and tried to act nonchalantly, but he had also conveniently turned his gaze away from Osamu, focusing on a picture frame behind Osamu so that he wouldn’t be making eye contact with the other.

“This is nice,” Osamu murmured, fingers sweeping across Akaashi’s like it was the most natural thing on earth. “You were saying?”

“I’m just tired.” Akaashi exhaled softly, the hands on top of his a warm addition. Something about the situation just screamed _wrong_ , but he conveniently and selfishly ignored it. There was a time to dissect the possible meanings of Osamu’s hand on top of his, but he was _not_ going to think about it right now.

“I’m pretty excited to just relax right now. I’ve finished with the work that’s required of me, so I have a few more days left before my flight.”

Osamu pulled away from Akaashi, and though he missed the warmth, he refused to say anything. “So you don’t have any more plans?” Osamu clarified, looking interested at the turn of events.

Akaashi shook his head. “I might just go and hunt down some more vinyl and get Bokuto his album but other than that, I don’t really know what to do.”

“Well, if you don’t know what to do Ji-ji, I can always buy you some of those ABBA records I saw at the shop earlier,” Osamu joked, though Akaashi didn’t seem to find it funny.

“Don’t say that, Osamu. We're not together anymore.” Akaashi withdrew and laced his hands together, appearing to be more closed off since hearing the other’s remark and his old nickname slip from Osamu’s lips. It wasn’t fair for Osamu to just joke around about things that were once special to him when they were dating. And frankly, Akaashi didn’t want to remember the good times if it meant feeling nothing but sadness instead of nostalgia. He had been a pleasant enough conversationalist, but some lines weren’t meant to be crossed.

Osamu hummed at that, his features suddenly carefully arranged into a neutral expression, an expression Akaashi knew was currently reflected on his face as well. “Yeah, Keiji. I know what the lines are. M’sorry. I just got a bit too excited at seeing you again.”

Excited? Over seeing him again? Akaashi could feel his heart start pounding rapidly in his chest. What did that even mean? He didn’t want to analyze what Osamu meant with that statement because it would just open up a can of worms Akaashi wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with just yet.

At Osamu’s diplomatic response, it seemed that the tension in the air had dissipated, and Akaashi felt himself slump to his chair once again, relieved that the short, barely-there confrontation hadn’t escalated. “Thank you.”

Osamu shrugged, his eyes flashing with something else before it disappeared just as quickly. “Y’know I always want you to be comfortable, Keiji.”

It was strange how everything was laid out on the table in front of them, Akaashi thought. He found out that Osamu wasn’t actually busy and was just killing time in London. He had already explored some of the European countries and had already gone on food trips to each site. Osamu still had warm hands, and he still used the same brand of cologne Akaashi gave him during their first Christmas together. Onigiri Miya was doing well, but he was afraid Atsumu would run it to the ground before he came home. He still messaged Atsumu every night – a habit he admitted was hard to break. But perhaps the most important information Akaashi had gotten was that Osamu had no other plans – which was extremely convenient for the plan brewing in his mind – and was planning on going home a few days from now.

There was a free exchange of information but at the same time, it felt like there was something hanging above their heads, words that refused to be spoken out loud. In another time Akaashi would’ve asked Osamu what was on his mind, but things were different now. This wasn’t the Osamu who woke up early and still made time to cook Akaashi breakfast when he was staying over in Tokyo. This wasn’t the Osamu who went record-shopping with him. For a second, Akaashi wondered if Osamu even kept an eyeglass cloth in his pocket all this time. The chances were probably low, he concluded.

Two years was enough time to break old habits and start new ones.

But if two years was enough, why did Osamu hold his hands before?

 _Force of habit_ , he had said.

Why were the two of them seating in a coffee shop, sweeping everything under a rug as if the past never mattered? Then again, Akaashi knew very well that dwelling on the past was dangerous and it was better to look forward and never back. Now was as good as any time to look forward.

It was stupid and Kenma would lose it if he found out what Akaashi was planning, but since when did Kenma become his main source of reason in times like these?

"You said you weren't busy, right?" 

Osamu nodded. "I have a few more days left before I have to go home."

Akaashi clasped his hands together, feeling a bit giddy for doing something so out of his comfort zone. "Then, do you want to go to the Netherlands with me?"

A beat of silence.

"The Netherlands?" Osamu raised an eyebrow, but he appeared to be considering Akaashi's proposal.

"I heard it's a good time of the year to visit.... as friends of course," Akaashi explained. "We are... friends, right?" he echoed Osamu's words from earlier, his brain finally catching up to his mouth, suddenly feeling hesitant and embarrassed under Osamu's sharp gaze. 

"Yeah. Friends." Osamu murmured, a faraway look in his eyes. 

He wanted the ground to swallow him up completely. He wanted to go hide under a rock or maybe take the next plane back home because _seriously_ , why was he trying to spend more time with Osamu in the first place? 

Steeling himself, Akaashi remained silent, waiting for Osamu's response anxiously. It was going to be alright, he told himself. If Osamu said yes, then great. If he said no, then that's also great. 

Akaashi would just have to live with the embarrassment for the rest of his life, but it would still be great. 

Osamu smiled at him. "When are we leaving, Keiji?"

"Pardon?" Akaashi asked a bit breathlessly, head spinning from the conversation. He was not expecting Osamu to say yes, but here was Osamu, a funny little grin peeking from his mouth, looking as real as one could possibly be. This wasn't a dream.

He was going with Akaashi. They were going to travel _together._

As friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to insert a we dont need memories joke so BAD.....but i didnt <3 up next kenma and akaashi have a nice talk abt feelings


End file.
